Aug. 12th, 2008

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Sometimes, in quiet moments, Susan Sto Helit reflects that even by the standards of a flat planet borne on the backs of four elephants standing on the shell of the great galactic turtle A'Tuin, the twists and turns her life has taken have been exceptionally strange.
Getting an education was a bit like a communicable sexual disease. It made you unsuitable for a lot of jobs and then you had the urge to pass it on. )
And the page turns, and one day—no one is sure exactly when—the First Aid Station is empty.

((And with that, I bid farewell to my longest-standing RP character. We've come a long way and, as several of you know very well, have been through quite a bit together. She'll be back, somewhere or somewhen else, and in my fic, but for now—adieu, and thanks.))
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A few days after the prayer meeting and Sylar's rude interruption, Aziraphale set out to run some errands. The first, unfortunately, proved in vain, and he dropped a letter in the mail with a heavy heart before proceeding to the second.

Dear Miss Cayce,

I am loathe to be the bearer of possible bad news, but I stopped by to see how Mr. Adams was doing this morning, and both the first aid station and the opera house appear to be abandoned. Have you seen or heard from him or from Susan since the prayer meeting?


A short time later found him approaching the clearing next to the Small World ride, carrying a bouquet of flowers and looking pensive.
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Shaun, after recovering from a massive bootleg-rum-induced hangover, was in a good mood. The sun was shining - oh, wait, it always did - but anyway, he was in a damn good mood and wasn't going to waste it, so he laced up his boots nice and tight, grabbed his football and kicked it in front of him on his way down to find Barbossa. He was in a havoc wreaking mood.

Not to mention, there was someone he desperately wanted to give a piece of his mind for being absolutely useless and idiotic in the face of a dinosaur. A piece of his mind more delicately meaning a piece of his fist. Even so, this didn't ruin his good mood, in fact, in some ways, it inspired it. About halfway to see Captain Barbossa, Shaun decided scores needed to be settled first. Well, as best as he could manage, but he certainly wasn't afraid of any ponce from God-knows how many centuries ago. He set out in search of Sir Percy, still kicking that football in front of him lazily.


A world of laughter. A world of tears. A world of hope. A world of fears.

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